Pulse

by Wade, Matthew

  “OK class so next week I want an essay on the abuse of power, what it meant to Macbeth but also what it means in today’s world, and how can we...”

  Gavin’s phone lit up with a message.

  Oh yeah and your girlfriend is a whore. Ha ha! Everyone knows it.

  The phone vibrated.

  I fucking hate you. Fucking hate you.

  “No phones on in class – you all know the rules – Mr Clarke, is that clear?”

  Buzz buzz.

  Turn that stupid thing off. No one wants to hear it.

  Dick. Fucking dick. I. Hate. You.

  “Come on now, put it away.”

  Buzz buzz.

  “Sorry sir – My mistake.”

  Stupid Gavin, Stupid phone. Hate you.

  Hate you.

  HATE!

  Whuuuummm.

  Witnesses would later report a range of facts that were largely over exaggerated just so the attention seekers would get their fifteen minutes.

  Some say that Gavin smashed it himself. Some say the desk actually moved before the phone exploded. Some say it levitated first.

  In truth the battery overloaded to such an extent that it super heated the handset and blew the casing apart with a loud crack. The charred remains of the phone flew across the classroom, leaving the burned out circuit board and an acrid smell of sulphur coming from the smoke it was emitting.

  Gavin jumped a mile out of his seat, kicking the table and chair away as he did. The nearby students let out an involuntary scream. As Gavin turned to look around for a cause of the event, he touched his hand to his face, and felt a small trickle of blood running down his cheek.

  Some of the casing had flown up toward him and cut a large gash into the soft flesh under his eye and was starting to bleed profusely.

  The skin has been torn away and a flap of muscle was hanging down across his face. The girl immediately next to him screamed and covered her mouth when she saw Gavin’s wound. She clawed her way back between the desks, as though Gavin was a monster and she were the heroine about to be horribly murdered in some B movie horror flick.

  Enough smoke from the phone had drifted up toward the ceiling that the smoke detectors were set off.

  The noise was so sudden and piercing that some of the students screamed again. Gavin’s face was now a mixture of shock and rage.

  “Who did this?!?!” He demanded over the fire alarm.

  “I’m gonna kill whoever did this!!!”

  Mr Osborne stepped in to take control of the now apocalyptic Gavin, and the frightened and bewildered class.

  “OK everybody out! Fire drill!”

  As the students raced for the door, he placed a firm hand on Gavin’s shoulder. “Gavin stay with me – we’ll get you taken care of.”

  The students were running with their hands over their ears, pushing their way past the crowd of rubber neckers trying to catch a glimpse of what had happened.

  Some of the people that day would report that they feared for their safety. Some claimed to suffer nightmares for weeks after – that they were scared of going back to school; genuinely distressed about it happening to them, that they may end up scarred for life like Gavin Clarke did that day.

  But as the last of the class exited; Ran out of the door to safety, Bobby had never felt more alive.

  Twenty one

  Captain Simpson was sitting in his easy chair at home. He was looking through the latest report papers on the crash site and subsequent events. They had started to piece together a connection between students at the local high school and what had been going on with recent store thefts.

  He needed some way of finding out information from the inside and fortunately, the answer was about to walk through the door.

  Blake turned the key and stepped into the hallway. He dropped his bag in the corner and jumped when he saw the man in the sitting room.

  “Oh hi dad – you startled me.”

  The captain motioned to the seat next to him. “Sit down for a moment son, I need to talk to you about something.”

  “Yes sir” said Blake as he obediently took his place in the chair next to Tom.

  “So how is school?”

  “Very good sir. I have an eighty five point average across all my classes, and coach is allowing me to take the younger years’ sessions pre game.”

  The atmosphere was uncomfortable between the two. Although they were not what you would call a close father and son, they made it work between them whilst they lived together.

  “That’s good.” He shifted in his seat. “So I am working on an investigation currently.” He paused to look at Blake, to make sure he had his full attention.

  “This investigation involves the area around the lake.” He picked up a glass of whiskey form the table next to him. “You attended a party there recently, am I correct?”

  “Yes sir. Some of the guys from school organised it through Facebook sir.”

  “How long were you there for?”

  “Only an hour sir. I can assure you I was not drinking sir.”

  The captain waved the comment away. “I know son; this isn’t the topic this evening.” He put the glass back down. “Did anything unusual happen there? Did you notice anything out of the ordinary?”

  “How so sir?”

  “Well, we are looking for a broken arrow. There was a… a crash previously at that same location. We are still on the lookout for some kind of stolen weapon.”

  “A weapon sir?”

  “Yes, details are still sketchy, but it is very important we locate this before it falls into the wrong hands.”

  “Well, I can assure you sir that I did not see anything out of the ordinary. In fact, the party broke up early due to a fellow student taken to hospital.”

  “Yes, of course, I remember your text message. Tell me, was this Robert Finlay?”

  Blake stiffened. “Well… yes sir. How did you…?”

  “Some evidence points to his direction, but we lack anything concrete. Do you have any contact with this boy?”

  Blake looked down at the floor.

  “Son, do I need to make you aware that I am your father, and also your superior at the academy. Now I am giving you a direct order to tell me what your connection is with Robert Finlay.”

  Blake looked up. “I am seeing his sister sir.”

  “Seeing? As in dating?”

  “Yes. Sorry, yes sir.”

  “Long?”

  “Sir?”

  “Have you been dating long?”

  “No, sir. Just over two months.”

  “Do you like this girl?”

  “Yes sir, she is very special to me.”

  “Good. Excellent. So she trusts you?”

  “Of course sir.”

  The captain stood up and started pacing the room. “I would like to start tracking their movements.”

  “Sir, I don’t know…”

  Tom spun around and stood over his son, his tone changing from gentle to more menacing. “Now you listen here. I am your superior. If you disobey me now, you will find yourself with a one-way ticket to the most remote army barracks I can find. I will cut off your phone, your allowance and you will never see any of your looser friends again. You will also never see your girl again. You won’t even get a chance to say goodbye. In fact, I will make sure that she finds herself with a criminal record of her own.”

  “You cant…”

  “I can and I will. We can make anything happen to her, frame her for any number of crimes. She will never get into college, or get a job as long as she lives. So when I tell you I need a very small amount of help, I expect you to fall in line.”

  Blake rubbed his temples with the palms of his hands. “I guess I have no choice. What do I have to do?”

  “Does this girl have a phone?”

  Twenty two

  Back at home Bobby’s mind was racing. He was sitting alone in his bedroom going over the day’s events in his mind. Surrounding him were some old
electronic toys that he used to play with a few years ago until video games had taken over.

  He had a couple of robots, some radio controlled cars, and an old phone that had since been replaced with a newer model.

  He had lined them up in front of him ready to go, but he needed one more check first.

  He went out the landing and called down the stairs. He waited. No answer. Just to be sure, he went over to the window and looked down to the driveway. There was no car parked and the neighbours were out.

  Good. He thought.

  His stomach was in knots. He had been thinking about what he was going to do all the way back from school. He knew that he had the power, no doubt about it. He knew that with just a little more practice, a little more training and he might be able to hone it and use it at will.

  After all, practice makes perfect.

  Bobby decided to start with the phone, as that was something he now knew would go under his influence. He had found the power cord for it and plugged it in so it was lit up on the home screen.

  He relaxed his mind, emptied it of all thoughts and summoned the feeling he had at school earlier that day.

  The phone was perched on an old computer case, so as not to burn the carpet or set fire to anything. He had also taken the precaution of bringing up the fire extinguisher from the kitchen. Just in case.

  He closed his eyes for a moment. There was a feeling he had gotten both times his power had expressed itself. It wasn’t an emotion, as he was in very different emotional states on the two occasions he had been successful.

  It was more of a sense of focus. A sense of knowing it was going to happen.

  Just like a sportsman might kick a ball, or throw a pass – there is a lot of technique and timing going on in each movement of the leg, or swing of the bat. But the guy wouldn’t be thinking all that; he would just visualise where he wanted to place the shot, and his body would fall in line.

  In both occasions, Bobby had not tried to shoot his power out; instead he had willed something to happen.

  He had willed the zombie girl to die in his video game (to terrific effect), and he had willed hurt on Gavin and his phone, causing it to explode.

  So here it was. The old phone was lying there. He looked at it with a steady gaze. He looked at its angular edges, its smooth surface, and how the screen created a soft glow of light around the room.

  He visualised it exploding, he told the phone with his mind to burn

  Push. Push.

  He was getting too tense. He needed to relax. His closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

  He levelled his gaze once more at the handset.

  He pushed at the phone with his mind, sent out a mental hammer to smash it hard.

  Then he felt it. He connected with the right part of his brain – his eyes felt a surge and his body sent a wave out toward the doomed device.

  Whuuuummm.

  There was a small pop and the screen on the phone went dead.

  The phone jumped and twitched, and broke in two. The PC case made a small ringing sound as the force of the phone breaking apart resonated on the metal. A puff of smoke emitted from the unit and quickly dispersed into the air. Bobby sat on the edge of his bed with a grin on his face. An enormous sense of satisfaction washed over him as surveyed the damage.

  But why had it not exploded so violently? Maybe I was holding back. The first two times I had been stressed. First stressed at the video game, and then at Gavin. Maybe the anger helps me let go more.

  He tentatively went over to the phone. He bent down and stretched his index finger out to touch it. He tapped it quickly and pulled away, as if he were frightened of an electric shock.

  He tapped it gently twice more, before picking it up with is hand.

  The unit was warm, and there was a faint burnt smell, and the circuit board was shot to hell, But apart from that – no other signs of damage.

  He got back into position and focused his attention on the radio controlled car.

  He once again summoned the feeling and pushed. This time he pushed harder.

  Whuuuummm.

  This time there was a louder crack as the car blew apart, sending bits of the chassis flying into the air. Bobby had to raise a hand to shield his face as one of the wing mirrors whizzed over his head.

  He was beaming now. He went over the car (what was left of it) to inspect the damage.

  “Cool” he said as he studied the burned insides and cracked casing.

  The three robots were up next. They stood like soldiers awaiting the firing squad. Bobby wondered how quickly he could shoot them down with his new mental rifle. He pushed three times in succession as he turned his death ray across the line of troops, watching with glee as they all responded to the call by dutifully disintegrating, leaving smoking remains where they once stood.

  He looked at his watch. 4:30pm. People would start arrive home soon. He bagged up all of the charred remains of various electronics that had been the victim of his experiment, and ran them down to the bins outside.

  Just as he turned to go back to the house, Steve’s car came down the road and turned into the drive.

  Bobby ran into the kitchen cleaning cupboard and grabbed and air freshener, and took it upstairs to his room.

  When he re-entered he realised there was more of a burnt smell than he had first noticed.

  He sprayed the can liberally around the room, and opened a window to remove most of the odour.

  The key turned in the front door, and Steve called up the stairs.

  “Bobby, you home?”

  “Yes Uncle Steve.”

  “You want take away pizza tonight.”

  “Yes please.”

  “OK, how was school.”

  “Oh, you know….”

  “Hey – come and give me hand with the car will ya? I got a new TV exchange for your room.”

  Bobby went down stairs to help his uncle carry the new TV set into the house.

  Robert Finlay felt good. He liked this new feeling. He hadn’t felt this alive in a long time. He hadn’t felt this powerful before. He felt the possibility of what he might be able to achieve, and what he could do with his new ability. He felt like it was time to test his new found powers on the unsuspecting outside world.

  Twenty three

  Maggie Finlay was feeling good. She hadn’t felt this at peace with the world before. She hadn’t felt this feeling of being loved, and being love as much as she had until recently.

  She felt the possibility of what they could achieve together and the future that lay before them. She wanted to go into the outside world and tell everyone what it felt like, as if she was the only one in the world who felt like this.

  The previous few years of her life had been tough emotionally. It took a strong mind and the help of her friends and family to help her get over the death of her mother.

  Well, get over was the wrong word, but at least move on to a point where it didn’t cast a shadow over her soul. She would not want me to be sad, but try and make the most of being happy.

  The last few weeks and months had been extremely cathartic for her. Meeting her first serious boyfriend helped her ease back into the world emotionally, and, with a little bit of patience, she could see that the future was bright.

  Blake was sitting on the bed next to her. He looked at her and smiled. “Thank you” he said. Maggie gave him a puzzled look. He lay down next to her and studied her for a while.

  Blake knew he had trouble expressing himself to others. This was not due to wanting to tell people how he felt, but a combination of shyness and the upbringing he had. His father had drilled into him a sense of discipline. He had taught Blake that real men don’t cry, and emotion is when you cheer on a football team, or get into a fist fight with someone who deserved to get knocked out. Men who cried at romantic movies, or talked about their “feelings” were wusses.

  Blake had had this drilled into him from a young age, and although he secretly did want to talk about
his feelings, or have a cry at a good movie when he felt like it, he found it hard to out of fear of upsetting his father.

  But now was different, he wanted to try and truly open up to Maggie, and tell her what he was thinking and feeling. He realised that she was different to the other people in his life. She did not judge him, or question him when he told her about his feelings, and she had allowed him – wanted him to be himself around her, and not hold back.

  This was a new sensation, and this new sense of emotional freedom that he had given himself permission to have was liberating. He looked at the girl that had allowed him to unlock himself and once again felt at ease.

  They both lay there looking at each other.

  Maggie reached out a hand to the back of his neck and pulled him in to her.

  The started kissing slowly and softly, pausing and switching sides every so often.

  Maggie rolled over to lay on top of Blake but this time they found themselves kissing more and more passionately, until Maggie whispered something almost inaudible into his ear.

  Blake’s hand moved down from the small of her back and grabbed her on the behind. As soon as he did Maggie stopped kissing him and looked up. He mumbled a ‘sorry’ and moved his hand around not knowing what to do with it.

  She took it and placed it back on her backside, then put hers right between his legs.

  He moaned and kissed her harder.

  She ripped open his jeans and pulled them down, willing him on.

  He ran his hands up her stomach and slowly lifted up her top. She stuck her arms up in the air, and he took her shirt off, and threw it on the floor. Maggie gave a mock gasp and tugged on his t-shirt.

  He reached around and unclipped her bra, slowly removing it, kissing and caressing as he went, taking his time to savour every moment he had with her.

  He unbuttoned her jeans. She jumped and wriggled when his hands touched her hips. “That tickles” she said with a mischievous look in her eye.

  Blake took the bait and tickled her more, she wriggled and laughed until she banged her head on the headboard which make him stop and cringe.